


Discretion

by accol



Category: Generation Kill, Suits (TV)
Genre: Banter, Begging, Drunk Sex, M/M, Marking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:58:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Generation Kill x Suits crossover drabbles originally written for fivesentencesmut.  BradxHarvey and NatexMike with background primary pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Anonymous asked: Brad/Harvey. Either one of them losing composure during the mindblowing sex._

First, it had been an unresolved battle of wills to determine who would pitch and who would catch. (That had been Harvey’s ridiculous wordsmithing, not Brad’s, as Harvey had leaned against his desk and fondled one of his prized baseballs suggestively; it had made Brad’s cock twitch hard since he so rarely met his match like this.) Then, a few bourbons on the leather couch at Harvey’s apartment led to a heated wrestling match for dominance while clothes were shed and tongues tangled. Each time Brad had Harvey pinned beneath him, Harvey would do something clever and turn the tables, never letting Brad get the true upper hand. But, finally, as Brad pressed a hard forearm onto Harvey’s chest and slid into him with slapping beats, Harvey started begging in a surprisingly satisfying whining tone; Brad smirked and obliged Harvey with a sweat-dripping, muscle-straining, teeth-gritting fucking that he wouldn’t soon forget.


	2. Chapter 2

_Anonymous asked: Harvey/Brad, hickies._

This is the kind of thing that happens when two alphas fuck: both of them want ownership and command of the situation. In the case of Harvey Specter and Brad Colbert, this manifested itself in the form of hickeys; hickeys that pushed the dangerous, playful edge of visible.

Harvey had Brad pinned, his knees almost painful on Brad’s forearms as he curled down and sucked a deep red mark above Brad’s clavicle that would be a scant inch below the collar of his skivvie shirt. A few minutes later, Brad laid over a struggling Harvey — Brad put his size to good use every time with Harvey — and marked him at the junction of neck and shoulder.

In the end, it was a pragmatic insurance policy of sorts; neither Brad nor Harvey would be able to bed anyone else for a good long while without these love bites showing and they both liked it that way.


	3. Chapter 3

_Anonymous asked: Brad/Harvey. Suit or Uniform kink._

Brad saw men in uniform all day, every day, but Harvey in his three-piece suit never failed to get him hard in a hurry. Power, intensity, and competence were Brad’s acknowledged kinks and Harvey in one of his suits had them all in spades.

Harvey leveled a serious look at him. “No, I will not fuck you while wearing my suit. Do you know how hard semen is to get out of wool gabardine?”

But Brad was surprisingly persuasive, and he threw in a key bargaining chip: Harvey in his suit and Brad in his cammies. They both won.


	4. Chapter 4

_Anonymous asked: Brad/Harvey: Begging._

Harvey was discreet. That and the knowledge that Brad could seriously fuck him up without even pulling out his K-Bar were the only possible reasons for what Harvey was currently hearing. There Brad lay, flushed and desperate, face-down on Harvey’s bed, hands spreading his ass open, and he was begging to be fucked as hard as Harvey could manage to move his Harvard Law cock. Of course Harvey was going to fulfill Brad’s request, and Harvey certainly got significant satisfaction in seeing past the rigid facade that Brad Colbert projected to the world — Harvey’s smirk was evidence of that — but Harvey was going to do this his way, on his schedule. Not every day could Brad Colbert be topped, not even by Harvey Specter, and Harvey intended to make Brad beg for every stroke.


	5. Chapter 5

_Anonymous asked: Nate/Mike. (Mike/Harvey, Nate/any) They’re both pining for someone they can’t have, but this helps them take their minds off of it._

Mike and Nate met at a bar off of Mass Ave; it was Mike’s first night in Cambridge, having been exiled up here on some kind of reconnaissance field trip to Harvard by Harvey… the untouchable Harvey Specter, who was painfully perfect and so out of reach, but Mike had come here with minimal complaining because Harvey had told him to come.  Mike felt vaguely lost, and Nate bought him a beer; one turned into a few more than was wise, and then Nate had his thumb next to Mike’s lips when he said, “I know, Mike, I know how it is.  I can’t be… We couldn’t have… He—”  
  
Mike squeezed Nate’s knee (Nate Fick being the down-to-earth, not asshole-ish version of Harvey that Mike _should_ fall for if Mike was half as smart as everyone thought he was).  “Where’s your place,” he asked against Nate’s ear, praying that the crowd wouldn’t pick that moment to go quiet.  
  
They fumbled into a drunken kiss when Nate closed his front door; Nate was a little too tall, but he held Mike hard, like he thought Mike might run or slip out of his grasp and disappear, like Mike wished Harvey would hold him… a little desperately.  Nate was a considerate lover, opening Mike with tongue and fingers, holding him down a little harder when he begged for it, letting him come first, but both of them had someone else in their mind’s eye when they quietly said their goodbyes.


End file.
